Pride Goeth before theFashion
by paxbanana
Summary: Measure Each Step side-story that takes place in a happy time between Books 2 and 3. Azula makes a boast, and Zuko raises her boast with a dare. What results is atrocity. Or…in which tie-dyed robes become a Fire Nation style.


Pride Goeth before the…Fashion

* * *

It started as a simple boast. Azula had long understood she controlled much of the fashion of Capital City by virtue of the fact she had no competition. The only other females in the royal family were a woman who wore black and thought a fashion accessory was a hidden weapon belt, a woman who only wore traditional clothing that had been out of fashion since the war, and an infant who preferred to wear nothing at all.

"Of course," Azula told her brother during a break in a council meeting. "Anything I wear will become the next fashion in a week."

Zuko looked at her with his eyebrow raised. "I don't believe it. What if you wore something ugly?"

"Are you deaf, Zuzu?" she asked him. "That ugly thing I happened to wear would become the next fashion."

He didn't say anything else about it, and they were both swept up in the next few months in a series of council meetings about whether to reduce or keep their existing military forces so Azula didn't think much of the exchange. It wasn't until a few months later when Katara was in the capital for her visit that Zuko brought it up again. He did so by sending her a gift.

Azula walked into her sitting room for some specific reason only to be completely diverted at the sight of all her servants and Katara clustered around something on the floor.

"What?" she asked, alarmed. Her first thought was that Tonk had somehow taken ill, but her bearded cat was asleep in a patch of sunlight on the settee.

Katara looked up at her with wide eyes. "You have to look at what Zuko sent you."

Her servants parted, Azula stared down at a mass of silk. It was bright yellow. Banana yellow. It was so blinding she winced when she looked at it. Insult to injury, there were bursts of just as bright pink, blue, and green splashed haphazardly on the yellow.

"What is that atrocity?" she asked. She felt the need to squint when she looked at it.

Katara opened the note that had come with it. She read, "'Azula, you said you could make anything the next fashion. I don't believe you. I want to see all the noble ladies wear this in a week. If that happens, I'll grant one request, no fine print involved.'"

Azula stared down at the cloth on the ground. Kota picked it up. In all its loud color, there were two sleeves. It was a robe. It was atrocious. It would make Azula look like some sort of embodiment of Tonkara's most brilliant vomit piles. Zuko had just dared her to wear it out in public.

Zuko had dared her.

"Well, we _were_ going to the theater tonight."

"There's not going to be a 'we' if you wear _that_."

Despite her words, Katara deigned to go out with Azula for dinner and to the theater. Nobles—men and women alike—stared at Azula like she was a walking catastrophe. She certainly looked like one. But the point was to pretend she didn't. She acted with the same dignity she always had and enjoyed her evening, despite Katara's jabs.

"I should have worn sun-shaders," Katara muttered in the restaurant. When they stepped out into the gray evening, she said, "You glow in the dark." When they were in their private box at the theater, she said, "People are too busy staring at you to watch the play." Then during the last act: "You could substitute the sun on stage."

"Yes, yes," Azula said each time with a sigh. "Laugh all you want. Mark my words: orders will be into all the clothiers tomorrow to copy this."

"There's no way anyone would choose to wear that," Katara pronounced.

"Ye of little faith."

Zuko was waiting for them in the royal gallery. He was practically vibrating in anticipation. When he saw Azula, he laughed so hard he had to sit down under his Fire Lord portrait. Azula swept by with utmost dignity. "I'm thinking hard about what I get to demand when noblewomen start wearing this in a week."

She lost her dignity when her little nephew pointed up at her, laughed, and said, "Auntie's a Bananana!"

Katara sputtered as she tried to hide her laughter. Traitor.

"Three syllables, Tozin," she told him with a sigh. "Banana."

"Bananana," he shouted with childish laughter.

She sighed again, leaned down, and picked him up to sweep him away from his father and her consort. Clearly it was time for him to be in bed. Zuko was still sitting on the floor like a fool, and Katara was bent over next to him crying tears of laughter. "I suppose this color deserves an extra syllable," she admitted to her nephew. He rewarded her with a kiss.

That night in bed, Katara massaged her shoulders and said, "It was a good try."

"Just you wait. I'll win this wager."

* * *

Family dinners out of the palace had become custom once a month. They rented out private rooms of a restaurant, rotating establishments around the royal district, and gave themselves an entire evening someplace where they could not be called away or distracted by a political 'emergency'. Ursa also claimed it let the nobles and commoners see that they were just a normal family.

Normal. Azula's family? Hah.

The following week when they took their family dinner, Azula didn't smirk when they walked through the main dining room. Everyone in the family knew about the bet, and Azula's 'outfit' had been passed around between their apartments in the royal palace. She'd been ribbed mercilessly about it for a week. Now they would all see that Azula's boasts hadn't been empty.

Every table in that dining room had at least one noblewoman wearing a blindingly atrocious robe or dress.

As they settled into their seats in the private room, they were all uncharacteristically silent, except the children, who happily chattered to each other about the sweet milk they would be able to drink with their dinner.

Katara broke the adults' silence by gently poking Azula's side. She was smiling. "Stop it. I can _hear_ your smugness."

"I hope you realize that makes no sense," Azula said with utmost dignity.

"I can't believe it." Zuko stared at her in utter shock. "I'm the Fire Lord and I can make people do a lot of things, but that was the scariest exercise of power I've ever seen. They're all wearing robes I had special made to be as ugly as possible…by choice." His horror increased. "Make them stop."

"Too late," Azula replied, enjoying Mai's palpable disgust with relish. "It'll probably take a few years to go out of fashion now. I think I'll have a few more made for my own enjoyment." She sneered at him and watched dawning realization on his face with glee. "I had a set made for you, in fact. That's my no-fine-print request: wear it to the next festival."

Zuko looked at her in helpless horror.

Ursa shook her head as Iroh put his head in his hand and laughed silently into it. She looked at her children and said, "I thought you two would outgrow your destructive natures when you became adults. Next time, please just light a tapestry on fire."

-end-


End file.
